For the very first time, he opened his eyes. Sharp light blinded him and he blinked in confusion, trying to make out his surroundings, as suddenly his new muscles started to contract and he arched his back and threw his arms and legs around in jabbed motions. His head starded spinning and he felt like he had forgotten something important, something very important.
Breath, he told himself. I need to breath!
He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs filling with air, finally supplying his body with the much needed oxygen. Now, he could hear his heart beating, jumping in a rapid rhythm inside his chest and pumping blood in high-speed through his veins. Behind all that, the sound of his own flailing and the shuffle of foreign feet.
One after the other, he noticed his other senses, too. Spicy smells filled his nose, as if someone was burning herbs, the smell of sweat, soap and... and was that anxiety or hope? Or maybe both. Together with his skin, everything was just too much to take in. He could feel the soft scratch of every bandage wound tightly around his body, the pattern of the wooden floor beneath him and every small stone grinding into his back.
His muscles stopped twitching at last and he gained control over his arms and legs. He stood up on insecure feet and soon noticed that he couldn't stand straight, because he was caught in a cage hardly big enough for him. With his back bend, he turned around in his prison, his hands stroking along the bars, trying desperately to find a way outside, but there was none.
He took hold of the bars infront of him and tried to calm himself to think more clearly, directing his focus on the outside of the cage. Several people stood around him, some of them were dressed in a military fashion, while the others wore dark silken robes. Runes were painted in a wet red on the ground and candles lit the room in an ominous light. He asked them were he was and why they held him captive, but none of them answered him. The man in the most resplendent uniform talked quietly, yet firmly, to a dark-skinned man in a cloak, decorated with golden ornaments, in a foreign language. With a confident air around him, the leader walked towards the cell, talking loudly in drawn out words he couldn't understand, and held a key infront of him. He looked at the item dangling from the strange man's hand and connected the dots in his head.
Taking a few deep breaths through his nose, he let his head hang low and concentrated on his inner feelings, trusting his instincts to decide the right next steps. Slowly, his skin started to prickle and he felt his muscles contracting once more, this time, shifting with purpose. He could hear the man shuffle closer carefully, trying to get a better look at him, all the while still gibbering, but it didn't divert his concentration. When he looked up, his eyes had changed, too. Everything seemed to be sharper, more in focus, and the hunter gulped audibly at the sight of him.
Instantly, he let his arm shoot out and grabbed the leader by his jacket. With all his force, he pulled him back. His head banged loudly against the bars, the noise mingling with the clang of arms, as the other hunters raised their weapons. He kept hold of the man and used him as protection, as he snatched the key out of his hand, opened the door to his prison and stepped outside.
With one arm around his human shield's neck, he searched for a way out, but he was surrounded by hunters. In his desperation, he looked up at the ceiling. It seemed to be made of multiple boards hold up by ridges. If the room had one weak point than this was it.
Snarling at his opponents, he pushed his hostage towards them and used the distraction to jump on top of the cage. With all his force, he punched against the ceiling, surprised as the board was easily blown away by his fist, as if it had just been resting on top of the ridge. Not contemplating this long, he pulled himself up into the small space between the panels and the concrete ceiling. Suddenly a shot rang through the air and he felt a sharp pain in his leg, but he didn't slow down and within seconds, his whole body was hidden in the ceiling liners. It was dark and dirty, dust and spider webs clung to his body as he crawled past, while pipes and lose wires obstructed his way, still he kept moving forward.
Beneath him, he could hear the hunters shouting, the voice of their leader clearly standing out from the rest of them. Still, no one shooted again, and he was very glad about that fact, because he was sure that the cardboards couldn't stop a bullet. The pain in his leg was still there, but he could already feel the skin closing and the graze wound healing rapidly.
The boards began to creack dangerously under his weight. At his next move, his hand suddenly broke through the board, his whole body following gravity. He yelped in pain as he crashed to the floor. At once he was on his feet again, ignored his aching bones and rushed along the corridor he had fallen into.
He skittered around a corner, when all of a sudden he found himself infront of two uniformed men. Gasping for air, he came to a slithering halt. The hunters stared at him for a moment, shortly shared a look, and then bolted towards him. He promptly turned around ran back down the corridor, the two men on his heels yelling after him.
Searching for cover, he dashed through a door and found himspef in a small office. The walls were lined with large bookcases and he knocked one over to barricade the way inside. In the middle stood a solid looking desk and he thought about hidding underneath it, as his chasers rattled at the door. When they noticed the barrier behind it, they began to throw their whole body weight against it in order to push it away. His eyes quickly scaned the room for any other exit but there was no other except for the large windows lining the opposite walls.
He crossed the room and opened the nearest window. Cold wind blew across his face as he leaned outside and marveled at the sight of houses taller than trees and the amount of cars and pedestrians hurrying along the deep urban canyons. Everything was so loud and dirty and fast and so, so alive.
A loud bang behind him stirred him into motion and he climbed outside onto the windowsill just the moment the hunters stormed into the room. He pressed his back against the wall and cautiously put one foot infront of the other, slowly moving forward until he reached the end of the side of the building, which was also the end of the windowsill.
He flinched as the window closest to him was pulled open, but found his balance again quickly. Another hunter leaned out of it, his face twitching into panic as he saw him standing on the edge. He began to speak in a calm manner and held his hands out in an unthreatening way, beckoning him back inside.
He looked the man up and down, taking in his armor-clad clothes and the lethal weapons he was carrying. This man wasn't to be trusted. This was not was safety looked like. But how would he know what it really looked like? What did he know anyway? He looked down at the street deep below him and suddenly a thought pierced his mind. The alpha. He had to find the true alpha. He'd know what he had to do, what his purpose was in this beautiful, but dangerous world he had just been born into.
A flight of pidgeons winged past him with loud flaps. He followed their path with his eyes, as they flew between the skyscrapers away, and he calculated his only options. Having his decision made, he spread his arms, closed his eyes and let himself fall forward.